I share the real-life stories that inspired my books, as well as other travel adventures, and posts on the food, history, and culture of the Southwest United States.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

The Skeleton Canyon Treasure Preview

I've been working on book 3 of my treasure hunting series, The Skeleton Canyon Treasure. Hopefully I'll have it out this summer. In the meantime, here's a preview of the first chapter.

The first book in the series, The Mad Monk’s
Treasure, is 99
cents at Amazon and FREE
at Nook,
ARE,
Smashwords, Kobo
and Apple/iTunes. One reader said: “Great
balance of history, romance, and adventure. Smart romance with an Indiana
Jones feel. Well-written with an attention to detail that allowed me to
picture exactly in my head how a scene looked and played out.” The
Dead Man’s Treasureis book
2. Each novel stands alone and is complete, with no cliffhangers.

The Skeleton Canyon Treasure: Chapter One

Camie let herself into the
darkened building, reveling in the silence. At 10 PM on a Friday, the engineering
department was abandoned, just the way she liked it. A few hours of work without
distractions and she’d get her invention running.

A faint light shone in the
darkened hallway. The glow spilled through the small square of glass in her
door, a warning beacon coming from inside her
machine shop. She hesitated. Had she forgotten to turn off the light when she
left for dinner two hours before? Plausible but unlikely. She put the
probability at no more than 5%. Slapping the light switch on the way out was
habit, and she’d been extra careful since the break-in a few nights earlier.

A few other people had keys to the
college’s machine shop, but the cleaning staff would be long gone, and her
student interns spent Friday nights at the bar. Camie returned after hours to
work on her own projects because inspiration required solitude. So why was her
light on?

She crept forward, as silent as
the sleeping building around her. The ten-inch window was cloudy with age and
threaded with wire mesh, but it didn’t completely hide the sight within. A
large man stood on the far side of the room, hunched over one of her workbenches.
She didn’t recognize him. Easily several inches over six feet and a good 220
pounds of mostly muscle, he would stand out in any crowd. Among the young
geniuses of a science and engineering college, he’d stand out like a mountain
lion among prairie dogs.

Her eyes narrowed and she gave a
low growl. What was he doing here, in her machine shop, after hours, messing
with her equipment? He had to be connected to the earlier theft. Why would he
come back when he already had her invention? He couldn’t know she’d already
started rebuilding it. Maybe he wanted to steal her notes and the provisional
patent application forms. Without them, she’d have a much harder time proving
she’d been the original inventor.

She considered her options,
calling campus security or the police being the most obvious. Campus security
would be faster, but the police would have guns. Problem was, she’d left her
phone inside the machine shop. She’d have to leave to find another phone, and
he might escape in the meantime, with her notes, and the new version of her
device. She didn’t trust the authorities to track him down once he got out of
the building. More likely they’d take a report and do nothing. And she did not
want to start over from scratch yet again.

And then the man actually reached
out and picked up her baby, her new version of the invention, only partway
rebuilt. All thought of options and smart choices vanished.

She barreled through the door.

The man spun around, still holding
her machine. At least he didn’t drop it, and his hands were occupied so he
couldn’t easily go for a weapon. But if he tried to get past her, she’d have to
risk damaging her invention in order to stop him.

He gaped at her, several
expressions flitting across his face as if unsure which one belonged. Finally
he settled into a cocky grin. It didn’t make him good looking. But despite his
size and her own keyed-up nerves, she didn’t get a sense of threat. She was
usually good at reading people that way.

Still, she didn’t relax. “Well?”

He looked momentarily startled.
What kind of greeting had he expected, a warm welcome?

He gave her a careful once over
and then something like recognition lit in his eyes. He said cautiously, “You
wouldn’t happen to be C. Dagneau?”

That was how she was listed on her
nameplate outside the door. Ah, of course. He’d assumed that anyone who ran a
machine shop had to be a man. Jerk.

She nodded once.

He turned and put her machine on
the long table. She shifted so she could see enough of his hands to make sure
they stayed empty. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, fitting closely enough she didn’t
think he had anything in his pockets besides a wallet. She shot a glance at her
filing cabinet, closed, and as far she could tell, still locked. Her notes
appeared to be safe.

“What are you doing here?” she snarled.

“I was looking for you, actually.”

She raised one eyebrow. She’d
spent weeks perfecting that particular move when she was fifteen, and it still
came in handy when she needed to express skeptical disdain. “You expected to
find me in the shop on a Friday night?”

He shrugged. “You’re here, aren’t
you?”

Couldn’t argue with that logic.
She tried again. “How did you get in?”

He hesitated a fraction too long. “The
door was unlocked.”

She studied him, but the cocky
grin was back, covering up any lies with attitude. He had the face of an Irish
boxer. Not ugly, exactly, but definitely not handsome. Not that it mattered
either way.

She knew she’d locked the door
behind her. She remembered reaching back to twist the handle, testing it. The
lock was loose since it had been damaged during the previous break-in and not
yet replaced. Someone could have popped the lock with a credit card or a little
force, but she doubted he could have gotten through without knowing he was
breaking in. One chance in twenty maybe.

And she wasn’t ready to give up
the offensive. “So you found me. Now what?” She crossed her arms under her
breasts. His gaze flicked down a moment but returned to her face before the
perusal could get rude.

“It’s a bit complicated. How about
a cup of coffee or something?”

“How about you tell me why you’re
in my office in the middle of the night?”

“You must keep early hours. It’s
barely past ten.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get to the
point.”

“All right.” He leaned back
against the workbench and crossed his arms, but where her stance was
intentionally aggressive, his at least pretended to be relaxed. Still he
studied her without speaking. Trying to decide how to handle her.

She didn’t like being handled. She
grabbed her cell phone from where it was plugged in near the door and started
dialing.

That got him moving. He took a
step toward her. “OK, I’m looking for someone.”

“A minute ago you were looking for
me.”

He blew out a breath. “My uncle.
He’s missing and I’m worried something happened to him. The trail led me here.
I wasn’t sure at first which side you were on, and that’s why I wanted to look
around before talking to you. But now that I see you, I can tell you wouldn’t
have had anything to do with his disappearance.” His blue eyes twinkled, and
the confident smile gave him a certain appeal. But if he thought she’d fall for
shallow flattery, he was much mistaken. Even assuming one could consider it flattering
to be told, “You’re probably too harmless to have kidnapped my uncle.”

She was sure he was lying about
something, and probably about everything. His appearance shortly after the
theft of her invention, a machine that might be worth millions, could not be a
coincidence. One chance in 10,000 maybe. He, or his uncle if he really had an
uncle, had to be connected somehow.

If she could figure out how, she
might get her invention back. Let him keep underestimating her, as 98% of men
did. Camie turned on her own charm. She flashed a smile that had him blinking
as if the light were too bright. “Let’s get that cup of coffee, and you can
tell me about it.” That would get him out of her shop, and into a public place
where it would be easier to get help if needed.

He nodded. “Lead the way.”

Camie and Ryan visit the Tombstone historic cemetery in The Skeleton Canyon Treasure

Except there wasn’t any place to
get coffee on campus on a Friday night. The disadvantage of a small town with a
small school. She wasn’t about to get in a car with him, or let him out of her
sight if they took separate vehicles. Since “coffee” was nothing more than an
excuse, she led the way to the student center. No food or drink service at that
time, but at least a few students would be hanging around, watching the
big-screen TV in the lounge or playing pool in the game room down the hall.

Camie dropped into one of the soft
chairs clustered near the main doors. No one else was in the foyer, but the
glass windows meant anyone outside could see them, including campus security
when they made their rounds. The spot provided plenty of privacy without the
isolation of her building. She gestured to the man as he sat across from her. “Explain.
You might start with your name.”

“Ah, didn’t we get to that? I’m
Ryan McGloin.” He grinned. “Age 33. Occupation, mining geologist. Currently
between contract jobs. References available upon request.”

She almost asked to see a driver’s
license and a business card if he had one. But that could wait. Better to let
him think she trusted everything he said for the moment. “Tell me about your
uncle, Ryan.”

He hesitated, but this time she
didn’t get the impression he was stalling or making up lies. Rather, he didn’t
seem to know how to start. Finally he said, “He’s brilliant. A genius. But,
well, he doesn’t quite fit in with normal society.”

Camie nodded. A few of her geek
friends fit that profile. Some people would say she did as well. She didn’t
consider it a bad thing, since “normal
society” tended to suck.

“His hobby is treasure hunting.”

Camie tensed slightly, but she
thought she hid her reaction well enough. Things were beginning to make sense.

“He’s always chasing after some
treasure or another, trying to put together clues from old manuscripts, sort
out rumors from facts, and so on. Once in a while, rarely, he’s actually found
something.”

“What has he been working on
lately?”

“The Skeleton Canyon treasure.” He
snapped the phrase and stared at her, as if expecting to surprise a reaction,
but this time she didn’t even have to hide one. When she simply gazed back, he
added, “Heard of it?”

She shook her head. Her friend
Erin was the expert when it came to history and legend. Camie brought the
technology, and a certain wilderness experience. Together they’d found one
long-lost treasure several years before and gotten some fame for their success,
but since then they’d done no more than offer occasional advice on treasure
hunting. It wasn’t a vocation, or even a serious hobby.

He watched her for several more
seconds, eyes narrowed in suspicion, before he went on. “Skeleton Canyon isn’t
too far from here. Southeastern Arizona, near the New Mexico border. But no one
knows where exactly the treasure is, of course. My uncle was trying to piece
together some clues. He kept a journal. A few days ago, I received the journal
in the mail. No explanation except for a note that said to hold onto it for
him.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t
that the plot of the third Indiana Jones movie?”

Ryan shrugged. “Maybe that’s where
he got the idea. Anyway, in the normal course of things, I might only hear from
my uncle once or twice a year. I wouldn’t worry, or even notice, if I hadn’t
heard from him. But this got me wondering. I tried to track him down. Not easy
for someone with no permanent address. But he does have a cell phone. My
mother, his sister, insisted on it. The deal is that he’s supposed to check his
messages every Wednesday, no matter what, and respond within a day. I left a
message on Tuesday.”

“No response yet?”

He shook his head, looking
honestly worried. “A day or two late, I could understand. Maybe he’s somewhere
in the wilderness where he didn’t have reception. Maybe he forgot what day it
was. But it’s been too long. I started reading through his journal, trying to
make sense of things. I followed the trail this far, but now I need help.”

She studied him. He’d dropped the
cocky charm that had grated on her nerves, leaving something appealing. But the
puzzle was still missing a lot of pieces. “What makes you think your uncle came
here?”

“He said as much.” His eyes
narrowed and he leaned forward, as if he’d caught her in a lie and was going in
for the kill. “One of the last entries in the journal said ‘New Mexico Science
and Engineering College – Dagneau has what I need.’”

He glared at her, as if waiting
for her to break down and confess everything, whatever crimes he thought she’d
committed. She studied him with a slight smile to show she wouldn’t be
disconcerted so easily. She said almost casually, “Sunday night someone broke
into the machine shop. They stole something of mine. Your uncle part of that?”

He drew back. “Uncle Donnie isn’t
a thief.”

“Ah. I suppose I’ll have to take
your word for it.”

He frowned. “What was stolen?”

“A machine that can see under the
ground.”

“You mean like Ground Penetrating
Radar?”

“This doesn’t use radar. It’s
better.”

He shrugged. “My uncle isn’t a
thief. If he thought this wondrous machine could be useful, he’d try to buy or
rent one.”

“There only is one – mine.” She
leaned forward, glaring. “And I want it back.”

“You have the only one in
existence?” He gave her a skeptical look. “What makes this one machine in all
the world so special?”

“It’s a lot cheaper and more
portable than GPR. One person can carry it. And it picks up on different things
than radar. It’s more like an ultrasound for the ground.”

Ryan frowned. “I haven’t heard of
anything like that on the market, or even in development. Nothing small and
cheap, anyway, nothing an amateur working alone could afford and use.”

“Of course not. I just built it.”

He studied her, and she could
almost see the wheels turning in his brain. He seemed surprised by her claims,
but that didn’t prove he hadn’t known about her invention. Maybe he was merely
surprised that a pretty, young, blond woman
had invented it.

Finally he said, “If you have
something like that, I can see why my uncle wanted to find you. The Skeleton
Canyon treasure is supposed to be hidden in a cave, possibly with a collapsed
entrance.”

“Yes, my machine would work for
that. If you were in the right area, you could identify empty spaces underground.”
No point in hiding that fact now, with the horse long gone from the barn.

“But is it really small enough?
Portable even over rough ground?”

“Absolutely. One person can carry
it easily enough, all day, if they’re fit. The question is, who carried it away
on Sunday night?”

Ryan slumped back. “I’m sure my
uncle wouldn’t have stolen your machine. He’s a fanatic, but he’s not a thief.
He would have tried to buy or borrow it.”

Her eyes hardened. “He wouldn’t
have succeeded. But he didn’t even ask.”

“Then it wasn’t him. Has anyone
else shown interest in it lately?”

“Not many people know about it.
The patent lawyer in DC is making his fortune by charging me for the legal
stuff. A few friends know what I’ve been working on, but I trust them. They
know not to talk about it too much.”

She drummed her fingers on her
thigh as she thought through the possibilities. “A couple of months ago, I made
some comments on a discussion board. Nothing too specific. I was trying to do
some market research, asking some questions about what people needed to make my
machine useful. Wait a minute, your Uncle Donnie wouldn’t have been Donald
Johnson?”

He sat up straighter. “Yes. So you
do know him!” He gave her a triumphant look, as if he’d finally tricked her
into confessing to a major crime.

She shrugged. “We’ve never met in
person, but he was active on the discussion board. Asked some questions. Sent
me a private e-mail. Wanted to know if I really had such a machine. I didn’t
gave him a straight answer, but I can see why he might have wanted to
follow-up.”

Ryan sat back and nodded, a bit
begrudgingly it seemed. “All right, that makes sense. If he couldn’t pin you
down by e-mail, he might have come in person. Only to ask questions, not to
steal anything.”

Camie wasn’t sure whether she
believed any of this, but at least they were making progress. “This is getting
complicated. It’s time to call in reinforcements. Give me a number where you
can be reached. While you’re at it, hand over some ID.” She gave him a smile a
lot sweeter than her words. “Just to make sure you really are who you say you
are.”

He handed over his driver’s
license and a business card with a cell phone number. She studied the license,
him, and the card, before handing the license back. “You staying here in town?”

“Yes.”

She gave a quick nod and rose. “I’ll
give you a call in the morning. We’ll meet with a few of my friends. I’d like
to get a couple more opinions on all this.”

He rose as well and took a step
toward her. He stood close and looked down into her face, a position that could
be considered looming. She lifted her chin and gazed back. Something sprang
between them that might have been attraction or might have been a challenge.